


Chain Reactions

by CheetahLeopard2



Series: Mortals & Demigods [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Accidents, Demigods, Gen, High School, Mortals & Demigods, Will Solace has Healing Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26168461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheetahLeopard2/pseuds/CheetahLeopard2
Summary: When a teacher gets hurt in a lab accident in Will's science class, of course he has to help- even if it means uncomfortable questions later.
Series: Mortals & Demigods [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900327
Comments: 6
Kudos: 213





	Chain Reactions

**Author's Note:**

> filed under: things I wrote at midnight to get out of my head and promptly forgot about

It is. 8 in the **AM**.

Will is very, very lucky that he rises with the sun. Regardless, it is still early morning, and not everyone is able to function well.

Especially, to the misfortune of everyone in the room, his Chem teacher.

Mr McMillan is usually fine in the morning, a bit slow during the first couple classes, but that’s nothing unusual.

Today, they’re doing a lab. Or, more accurately, Mr McMillan is doing a demonstration and Will and his peers are going to sit and take notes.

He explains as he works, setting up the demonstration. When everyone is in the classroom and the bell has rung, he loudly explains what he has in front of him, and how it will be used to make a tiny, controlled explosion.

For Some Reason, Mr McMillan doesn’t measure out the substance to combine with the liquid, instead holding it above the beaker to scrape off some shavings.

He accidentally drops the entire chunk in.

 _Well, fuck._ Will has time to think, before the medium-sized, un-controlled blast floods his senses.

Luckily, everyone’s quick to duck, and are all wearing safety goggles.

As the fire alarm goes off, Will’s attention is brought to the front of the classroom.

Mr McMillan took the brunt of the blast, and glass shards litter his face, his eyebrows are burnt off, but most concerning is that the knife he was holding to scrape off the correct amount of substance is now buried in his right shoulder.

Will rushes to the front of the classroom, shouting his lab partner’s name, “Go get the nurse!”

Luckily for the very mortal Mr McMillan, the blade is just below his collarbone, likely fracturing it but not puncturing his lung.

Will quickly assesses the damage and curses, because the substance on the knife definitely isn’t safe to have in Mr McMillan’s bloodstream, and the glass is also contaminated.

“I need gloves, tweezers, clean rags- not paper towels, disinfectant, and the first-aid kit, now!” he orders, voice steady.

Luckily, his classmates quickly split up, grabbing things from around the classroom. The lab room also doubles as the home ec room, and so there are clean dishrags in the dryer.

He snaps on the gloves, and gets to work removing glass from cuts, and disinfecting wounds.

He hesitates at the knife, but ultimately decides that because of the contamination he has to remove it to clean the wound as soon as he can.

There isn’t any gauze in the first-aid kit, for whatever fucking reason.

He calls for more clean rags and pulls out the knife, immediatly applying pressure.

Mr McMillan grunts weakly, and Will knows the contaminated substance will reach his brain quickly because of the location of the wound, and combined with bloodloss he’ll die before an ambulance could reach the school, if Will doesn’t use his healing powers.

Pressing as hard as he can, Will begins to sing in Ancient Greek, praying to his father.

His classmates gasp, and he knows he’s glowing faintly, but hopes that they’re gasping because Mr McMillan’s smaller cuts are closing up.

The school nurse has finally arrived, and gasps when he sees the situation, especially Will.

“Ambulance ETA?” Will asks as quickly as possible before resuming his healing.

“3 minutes,” the nurse answers, “Switch off with me.”

Will shakes his head, “Contaminated blade, can’t stop.”

“There’s nothing you can do to clean his bloodstream,” the nurse reasons, pulling on a pair of gloves, “You’re 16 Will, let me handle this.”

Will bites back his protest, just shaking his head.

He’s been a combat medic in two wars. He’s reattached more limbs and done more surgeries and vaccinations and cared for more wounds than this nurse will see in his lifetime, but he can’t exactly prove that to a mortal.

Finally, he feels the levels of the contaminating substance are back to base for a human, and stops praying before he closes the wound completely, which would be. Very suspicious to say the least.

“Okay, come switch with me,” Will allows the nurse, and they switch off, keeping constant pressure.

The ambulance arrives and Mr McMillan is carted away, EMTs marveling at how Mr McMillan hasn’t died from the contamination.

Later, after a blood test and stitches, they’ll marvel at how there’s nothing contaminating his blood at all, despite the state of the scene.

The incident is the talk of the school for weeks, and everytime someone mentions it Will just smiles, relieved at having been able to save yet another life.

* * *

He’s called in to the office the next day, where he’s informed of Mr McMillan’s miraculous condition.

“How were you able to stay so calm?” the nurse, the only adult witness, asks.

“Just combat medic things,” Will fingerguns, playing it off as a joke, before taking on a more serious expression, “I want to be a doctor. I’m the head medic at camp, so I’ve seen some pretty bad stuff.”

The councilor leans forward with concern, “Will, regardless of what you’ve treated in a controlled environment like a camp infirmary, trying to keep someone alive in an emergency situation is much worse, psychologically. Are you okay?”

Will’s silent for a long moment, gaze scanning the face of the principle, nurse, and councilor he was called in to see.

“I’ve been through worse,” he finally says, leaning back in his chair, “I really am fine. It’s not like I was being attacked while I hea- _helped_ Mr McMillan, the accident had already happened, there was no additional threat to anyone’s health, because there wasn’t supposed to be a gaseous reaction.”

The councilor and nurse exchange a long look, and the principle laced her fingers together thoughtfully.

“This isn’t an ‘others have had it worse’ situation, Will,” the councilor says evenly, gently, “It’s okay for-”

“All due respect, Ma’am,” Will cuts in, “I wasn’t talking about ‘others’- I was saying specifically this is nothing big to _me_. Mr McMillan survived, and the experience was nothing more than a small accident that lasted a minute, and then 5 minutes of keeping Mr McMillan alive.”

“You weren’t a combat medic, Will,” the nurse says, throwing up his hands.

Will’s eyes flash a bright, bright blue for an instant, “I’ve had friends- _siblings_ **-** die in my arms becau-” he forcibly cuts himself off, taking a deep breath, “You have no right to assume my experiences.”

“Will, you should probably seek counseling-”

“Shouldn’t everyone?” Will laughs, a short, bitter sound. He picks up his backpack, glaring at the principle when she opens her mouth to protest, before walking out the door.

_What a fucking mess._

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment!!!


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